


Sweet dreams

by Tantaylor



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: M/M, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tantaylor/pseuds/Tantaylor
Summary: Roger`s life is a mess. That`s just when an old friend calls.
Relationships: Nick Rhodes/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Sweet dreams

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my mother tongue, no beta.
> 
> Story takes place at Reunion era.
> 
> Feedback welcome
> 
> Thank you

Roger woke up from his sleep bathed in sweat.  
Again, as so often lately.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

The sweat was not the worst.

It was the semen. 

His seed, hot and wet, stuck to his stomach, even to his chest.

_God. Oh God. No,_

He desperately sucked in some air, trying to calm his pounding heart.

This was so not right! So utterly not right! 

On wobbly legs he stood, staggering to the bathroom.

Avoiding his own reflection in the mirror, he fetched a washcloth. Again.  
Like last night, the night before last night, like every fucking night this week.

Cleaning the sticky mess, he finally looked up to meet his own eyes.

He was wrong. The worst thing wasn`t that he shot all over himself like a teenager, for five nights in a row.  
The worst thing was that he remembered every little dream sequence that had led to this.  
That, when he woke up, he felt the touches as if they really happened. He felt the hands, the lips, the tongue all over his body.  
And the voice. He still heard that voice, whispering, talking dirty, driving him nuts.  
_-Let me in. Open up for me. Oooh, so tight , so hot, yes! I'm gonna fuck you, Roger, until you see stars. Until you scream.-_

Roger`s virgin hole clenched and he let out a shivering sob.  
In the first dream it had been a hand, a knowing, talented hand around his cock.  
Lips on his, a tongue in his mouth, that voice nothing more than an appreciative, deep murmur.

 _-Hmmm hmmmm hmmmm-_  
But he had known. He had known that it was _his_ hand, _his_ lips, _his_ voice.  
He would have known it even if he hadn't seen those eyes the second he woke up. Right before him, darting into him, straight down to his soul.

He had been confused, even a little amused.  
That was five days ago.  
The dreams had increased, had become more intense. From touches to blow-jobs, from a tongue in his mouth to a tongue swirling around his balls.  
Now he had been fucked in a dream, and it felt so real that his puckered entrance still clenched and unclenched like…like it missed the cock that had filled it. He even felt sore, no shit!  
He wondered if maybe he had fucked himself in his sleep, with his fingers.

With a hint of disgust he reached for the hand soap.  
It wasn't confusing anymore, and not at all amusing.  
It was driving him crazy, made him doubt his sanity.  
He had never been attracted to men, ever!  
How on earth should he face the man today, the man who haunted him in his dreams, in very wet, sweaty dreams?

After he towelled himself dry, he slipped into a bathrobe and went to the living room.

Maybe the loneliness was to blame.

When 2 weeks ago the phone rang for the first time in his new apartment, the unusual noise scared him to death.  
He had not yet given the phone number to anyone, because he wanted to be alone. Not have to explain anything, not have to talk to anyone. He just wanted to lick his wounds, so to speak.  
His life plan had failed, and he had not seen it coming. Not until he had caught his wife in bed with Paul. His _friend_ Paul!  
The two people he trusted the most had betrayed him.

He had just left. He hadn't spoken to them since, neither of them.  
It's been a month now.

The days that went by felt strangely unreal until that evening two weeks ago, when the phone rang.

“Yeah?” He was drunk and he knew he was slurring.  
“Roger?”

He knew right away who was on the other end.  
And that felt almost more unreal than anything else.  
“Well, if it isn't Nick Rhodes!” he blurted.  
“It is, man, it is! I'm extraordinarily flattered to be recognised after so many years. Listen, Froggie, I know it`s on short notice, but is there any chance to meet you? I heard you moved to London, and well, surprise, I am in London. May your old bandmate perhaps invite you to dinner? I have something very important to talk to you about, and I'd like to do it in person, not on the phone.”  
“No one's called me Froggie in years.” Roger chuckled, completely taken aback.

About 2 hours later he walked into exactly that kind of restaurant he thought Nick would choose.  
Seeing the man in person was overwhelming.  
But then, maybe, part of it was all the tension Roger couldn`t get rid of in the last 2 weeks, neither with the help of alcohol nor sleeping pills.  
When Nick pulled him into his arms, it was like a dam would break.  
He clung to Nick like a lifeline and he could not stop crying.  
Without saying a single word Nick led him into one of the sitting corners, fortunately a rather secluded one, sat down next to him and just held him.  
After Roger had calmed down somewhat, he handed him a handkerchief.  
Roger was ashamed. He hadn't seen the man for so long and the first thing he did was to have a nervous breakdown in his arms. If that wasn't a brilliant start...

“Ok, Froggie, tell me.”

It was as simple as that. 

When the dessert arrived, together with a second bottle of excellent wine, Nick knew everything about his messed up life.  
“But I think you had another reason for this meeting than to play the comforter for me.” Roger ended with a smile, the first smile in two weeks.

“Oh, it can wait. What you need now is entertainment. Do you have a problem with gays, Roger Taylor?”  
“Huh? No. Why?”  
“Because, one, I'm gay, and two, you and I are going to a gay bar, I guarantee you, no women. If there are any, they're men. So, my friend, unbutton the first buttons on your shirt, show a bit fluffy chest hair and we'll go have some fun.”  
And hell, what fun they had.  
Not in a million years would Roger have thought that Nick, who was always cool, a little reserved, was such a fun person. 

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, they were sitting together in a taxi.  
"So, what's your address?"  
"Oh, I forgot.”  
“You forgot your address? Honestly, Froggie, you don't look that drunk to me.”  
“I've only lived there two weeks. And believe me, Nick Rhodes, I am that drunk! Goodness, those drag queens drank me right under the table!”

“Ok, no problem. Then you come stay with me.”

He woke up with a terrible headache in a place he didn't know and it took him a few minutes to remember that he was in Nick`s guestroom.

Searching for his host he ended up in the kitchen where Nick was sitting at the table with a girl.  
“ Seriously, dad? Since when do you bring your lovers home?” she snorts, looking him up and down.  
“Tatjana! Don't you recognize the man? Even though he looks very cute, so dishevelled, I must disappoint you. This is not a lover; this is my friend Roger. Roger, the drummer.”

“Oh!” Tatjana blushed. “THAT Roger.”  
“The one and only! Come here, Rog, have a seat. Coffee?”  
Roger spent the day with Nick and his daughter, painfully missing his own children.

In the evening he called his mother and told her what had happened.

He still wouldn't talk to Giovanna or his former best friend, but he had to see his children.

The following week he spent with his parents in Birmingham. His soon-to-be ex-wife had driven the kids there.  
Nick called every night and they talked for hours.  
His parents were still far too shocked by the sudden end of his marriage, and it was Nick who gave him the strength to have those terrible conversations with James, Ellea and especially with the youngest, Elliot.  
He's gonna have to talk to Gio at some point. But not yet.

Back in London, Nick and Tatjana invited him to dinner at their house.  
Once again, he spent the night in the guestroom, but this time he just couldn`t sleep. Seeing how close Nick and Tatji were, how much they loved each other was both, wonderful and sad. There was such a strong bond between them, and it was exactly what he wished for with his own children. Obviously, this could work. He had to find a way to work things out with Gio. They had to talk about the kids. The thought of a custody fight made his heart hurt, though, but he had to stop wallowing in self-pity. His marriage was not the only one to break up and he had to live with it  
It was three at night when he gave up, knowing the sleep wouldn`t come.  
He was on his way to the kitchen as he heard the voices out of the living room.  
“…and then Cary said I have the most beautiful eyes.”  
“Of course you have, you inherited them from me. And then? Did you make out?”  
“With Cary? Are you stupid, Dad? He's not my type. I don't like blond boys. I prefer them dark haired, with pretty brown eyes.”  
“Oh, yeah? How many dark-haired, brown-eyed boys have you made out with, Tatjana Lee Orchid?”  
“With far less than you have, I guess.”  
“I don't make out with boys. I like men. Real men.”  
“Yeah, all right. Like the one who's sleeping in our guest room right now.”  
Roger couldn't help but grin. Maybe he should make himself noticed, but for some reason he didn't.  
“That's not funny, Tatji. You know he's not gay.”  
“But you like him anyway. You like him a lot.”  
“Of course I like him. A lot. But he`s married.”  
“Separated.”  
“He`s still straight.”  
“I bet you wish he wasn't.”  
“It doesn't matter what I wish.”  
“Ha! I knew it. You have a crush! That`s beautiful.”  
“No, it's not. It's horrible. You don't crush on heterosexual men.”  
“But think about it, Dad! His wife was cheating on him. Maybe he's had enough of women now.”  
“It does not work that way, Tatjana. You don't turn gay because your wife cheated on you.”  
“That's too bad. I like him a lot too. You make a nice couple.”

At this point Roger turned around and went back to bed.  
He felt shabby, having overheard them both so shamelessly.  
But for some inexplicable reason he was also incredibly flattered that the flamboyant Nick Rhodes had a crush on him.  
Weird.

The next night, when he was back in his apartment, these dreams began.

Nick was out of town, some band business, he said, but he still called every evening.  
With each conversation, after each further dream, Roger felt more self-conscious and strange.  
And today Nick would come back. After the dream in which he fucked Roger.

He tried in vain to calm down. Dreams were messages from the subconscious, they said.  
Well, the messages of those dreams were very clear, weren't they?  
Still, maybe it would just help to clean up the mess in his life.

When his doorbell rang at six, Roger had cleaned up a hell of a mess.  
He was also drunk,  
“ Wow,” Nick greeted him as he opened the door.

“I brought wine, but you look like you've had enough. What happened?”

_-Nick has nice lips. Soft lips. Like tiny little pillows-_

“Talked to Giovanna. And Paul. The divorce is in process. I wasn't cooking. I was ordering food. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure. You okay, Froggie?”  
“Don't call me that. I don't like it, I've never liked it. Come in.”

“What the hell…?” Nick blurted when he stepped into the living room.  
“I cleaned up my life.”  
“I don't mean to offend you, Froggie,,,,Roger, I'm sorry, Roger...but this doesn't look particularly clean. Actually, it looks like a bomb went off in here.”  
The floor was covered with pictures. Photo albums, magazines, newspaper clippings. Wedding photos. Band photos, naked men.  
Roger staggered to the table, grabbing the almost empty Vodka bottle.  
“A drink, Nick Rhodes?”  
“No, thanks. I'll go make some coffee. And then you can explain to me what's going on.”

He followed Nick into the kitchen and fell heavily onto a chair.  
Watching as Nick put coffee powder in the filter and poured water into the pot, he tried to think clearly. 

He had definitely drunk too much, way too much.  
But sober he just couldn't say what he had to say. He had to clear it up right here, right now, or he would never find the courage.  
“Roger Taylor, will you please explain to me why there is gay porn on your floor?”  
“I've been having dreams lately. Clearly homoerotic dreams. I wanted to find out if pictures of naked men turned me on.”

Nick raised a brow. That was all. Just a raised brow, as his green eyes darted into Roger`s.  
“They don't turn me on. But you turn me on. I dream about you, Nick. I've been waking up every morning covered in sweat and cum for a week. I feel you when I wake up, I hear you. Last night you fucked me.”

“Goodness, Roger! You are blind drunk. You don't know what you're talking about!”  
“That's right. I'm completely drunk. But what I say is true. I was cleaning up. Inside me. And I still feel you.”

6 months later, a Villa in Paris:  
Roger stood from behind his drum kit and hugged John.  
The kids applauded.  
Simon`s girls, Andy`s bunch, Atlanta, Tatjana, among with Ellea, James and Elliot.  
“Nigel, get your hands off Roger's ass.” Nick grinned.  
“This is my man, Rhodes! My fucking other half.”  
“Musically perhaps, Uncle John. But he belongs with my daddy. I've known that from the beginning.” Tatji elbows her dad. “ Haven`t I?”  
Roger smiled at the two.  
Now everything was as it should be.  
Hard to believe it was only six months ago that Nick called him. Actually, to ask him if he was interested in a reunion. Funny that he found out how interested he was in Nick without even knowing the reason for his call.


End file.
